


Midnight Blue

by rockhoochie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Begging, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Female Ejaculation, Fluff, Light Angst, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, POV Third Person, Praise Kink, Size Kink, Smut, Spanking, Stripping, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-14 23:31:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13600764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rockhoochie/pseuds/rockhoochie
Summary: Sheriff Hanscum begged the Winchesters to help a young hunter with this case. With the threat neutralized and a night off, Sam and Y/N put their free time to good use. For one night, the hours they spend together are full of delight, passion, and fulfilled fantasies – a night that neither of them saw coming or would soon forget.





	Midnight Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a reader's request. POV switches between Sam and reader.  
> There are song lyrics included in this fic (in italics) – I highly recommend [giving the songs a listen](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLd_lqPe18gHV4Fb1OFL-iJgkxguOtpiUf), since they really play into the mood of the story. The location and the lodge in this fic were inspired by an actual town and bar: [Manitowish Waters, WI](http://manitowishwaters.org/) and [Little Bohemia Lodge](http://www.littlebohemialodge.com/) (I’m a WI gal, I love my state!). 
> 
> This is the longest fic I’ve ever written. So curl up and get comfy with a cup of tea or glass of wine (or a brandy old fashioned sweet with a shot of Jägermeister) and enjoy!
> 
> For Lara

**_Him_ **

"Dude, this place is friggin awesome." Dean had an almost childish look of excitement on his face, a look that Sam rarely saw.

“April 22nd, 1934,” Dean chattered, “Huge shootout between the FBI and the Dillinger gang...Red Hamilton, Tommy Carroll, freakin’ Baby Face Nelson, they were all here! Check it out,” he said with a wide grin stretching across his face, eyebrows raised. He took a few steps towards an old window, fractured here and there with bullet holes, spindles of the shattered glass resembling winter frost. “We…” he paused in dramatic effect,” are standing in history, little brother.”

They were supposed to meet their contact here, an old rustic lodge that had slept and served innocent civilians and gangsters alike since 1929. Now only operating as a bar and restaurant, it had become somewhat of a tourist stop, known infamously for the gangster melee and painstakingly preserved aftermath of the incident.

The corners of Sam's lips curled into a soft smile as he watched his brother marvel at the historic memorabilia, happy to see him enthused about something for once. It had been a long hard month – hell, it had been a long hard life – and Sam was far from thrilled about being on another case. Sheriff Hanscum had called them two days earlier, just after they had taken out a werewolf pack in Iowa, begging them to help out a young hunter tracking a Shifter in northern Wisconsin. Although the girl had a few years of experience, and despite her adamant protestations, Donna wanted the Winchesters as reinforcements for the woman she referred to as a “good hunter but a hot-headed little pistol.”

Sam looked around the bar, admiring the famed mementos and the rustic décor. Wall to wall knotty pine, stained a dark blond with patches of varnish still gleaming against age and wear encased the room. Decorating the walls, an assortment of stuffed waterfowl, mounted deer heads, gigantic lake fish, and a full body bear-skin were accented here and there with Native American relics. The entire lodge held the comforting scent of an old, preserved building – a slightly damp mustiness that mingled with the vapors of various liquors and fried food, a hint of years of tobacco smoke that had seeped and settled into the pine’s pores, the musk of leather and tanned hides - made all the more aromatic by the humid summer heat.

Several high, solid wood tables were dispersed apart from the main bar, each covered with its own gingham print tablecloth, forming a makeshift cocktail lounge that surrounded a large stone fireplace. From the hearth, the smooth melody of Coltrane's  _“Say It Over and Over Again”_  flowed from a live quartet, the nostalgic, sultry soundtrack perfecting the unique flavor of the building’s atmosphere. It was confusing and enigmatic, as though the owners couldn’t decide if it should be a saloon, a jazz club, or a hunting lodge.

“Come on, fanboy,” Sam urged his brother with a pat on the shoulder. “Let’s find this girl.”

Dean slowly tore himself away from a glass display of encased artifacts - old newspaper articles, a suitcase, and a collection of John Dillinger’s ties.

"Who we lookin’ for again?”

Walking towards the bar, Sam took out his phone and pulled up his last text from Donna.

“Jenna Ford, 22” Sam read aloud.  “Tiny blue-eyed brunette, nice girl but if she gets p.o.’d she’s meaner than a honey badger.”

“Sounds just like your type, Sammy.”

“Shut up, Dean.”

Sam looked around the bar and lounge area. It was far from crowded, the locals most likely opting to stay in and any tourists too alarmed to visit amidst the body count that had piled up in the small town. Only twenty or so people were scattered throughout the area, all men who looked like they had just come from a photo shoot for Field and Stream, ranging in age from twenty to seventy.  The only woman he saw was the tall blonde behind the bar. 

Sam gave Dean a shrug. “I don’t see her.”

“Probably beat her here. Drink?”

Sam nodded in agreement and wandered off to find themselves a table. He settled at one as far back from the band's set-up as possible, in a position that gave him the best view of who was coming in and out and around. He hoped this girl showed up soon – he was so damn tired. Drained from the drive and interviewing a few locals, from fast food salads and wearing his FBI getup. The motel they had checked into for the night was right down the road, within walking distance, and relatively decent for once; All he wanted to do was get out of his suit and try to get some decent sleep. They had finally rolled into the lodge around ten-thirty, and if by some impossible chance he could get back to their room by midnight, maybe he could get in a quick run in the morning.

Dean was taking his sweet time fetching their drinks, flirting with the bartender. Sam felt a twinge of irritation as he watched his brother lay his typical moves down on the only woman in the bar. She'd better live nearby - he'd be damned if he had to sleep in the Impala. He watched Dean flash the girl a toothy grin and a wink before bringing their drinks to their table.

“Make a new friend?” Sam chaffed.

Dean set their drinks in front of them with a smirk. “Hope to by the end of the night.”

Sam scoffed, picking up his whiskey and taking a large sip. He was getting impatient, eyes constantly scanning the bar, awaiting any sign of Jenna.

“Relax,” Dean said, observing his little brother’s restlessness.  “If we don’t see her by the time we finish these drinks, I’ll call Donna.”

They stood at their table as they sipped their whiskey in comfortable silence, glancing at the crowd now and then in search of Jenna, allowing the music to be their conversation for the moment.

Neither of them paid too much notice as a woman accepted a microphone from the bassist and stood in the center of the quartet. Emerging from a few catcalls and whistles that echoed around the room, the sound of a seraphic voice directed Sam and Dean’s attention back to the band.

_You had plenty money nineteen twenty-two_

_You let other women make a fool of you_

_Why don’t you do right, like some other men do?_

_Get out of here and get me some money too?_

Sam felt his breath catch and strained to keep his expression as stoic as he possibly could. This woman was one of the most beautiful sights he'd seen in years. Her dark hair fell in soft waves against the straps of her simple knee-length black dress, lending a sharp contrast to the porcelain paleness of her skin. The dark fabric hugged the shape of her body, while a plunging neckline revealed a tantalizing view of her smooth cleavage and sides of her breasts. A gleaming, wide cuff bracelet around her slender wrist matched her shoes -  strappy silver sandals with precariously high heels that somehow supported her lean yet athletic legs. Full, thick lashes framed her eyes, competing for attention with her plump garnet-stained lips and the rosy pink apples of her cheeks.

Images from lore - of fae queens, goddesses, and fairytale princesses - flickered through Sam's mind before culminating themselves in the physical embodiment of this woman he couldn't tear his eyes away from.

He took in a deep breath when she started walking around the cocktail tables as she sang, flirting and brushing her free hand along the arms and exposed necks of several male spectators. Sam allowed himself to steal a quick glance at Dean, who seemed as captivated by her as he was. His mouth was closed, eyes wide but expressionless, one hand in his pocket, the other in a loose fist that rested on the table.

_You’re sitting there wondering what it’s all about_

_You ain’t got no money, they will put you out_

_Why don’t you do right, like some other men do?_

_Get out of here and get me some money too?_

She was still across the room from them, sauntering in time to the music. Her elegant form, her movements, her ethereal voice filled every one of Sam's senses with something he couldn't quite describe.

_If you had prepared twenty years ago_

_You wouldn’t be a-wanderin’ out from door to door_

_Why don’t you do right, like some other men do?_

_Get out of here and get me some money too?_

The brothers stood transfixed as she weaved her way around the tables and the patrons, watching every move she made. Even in those heels she appeared to be walking on air, slinking her way through the small crowd.

“Damn,” Dean muttered, “she is fuckin’ hot…”

 Sam heard him but didn’t acknowledge it. Instead he swallowed hard, feeling his pulse quicken ever so slightly as this stunning creature crept closer and closer to their table. What the hell, why were his knees feeling weak? He needed to sit. He reached for the stool behind him and slid it forward, never once taking his eyes off her as he settled on the seat.

 

_I fell for your jivin’ and I took you in_

_Now all you got to offer me’s a drink of gin_

She was headed toward them now, with a sure and steady amble. Sam felt a stab of envy when she ran her delicate hand down Dean’s arm from shoulder to wrist.

_Why don’t you do right, like some other men do?_

_Get out of here and get me some money too?_

Dean looked completely taken aback. He quickly closed his now gaping mouth with a clearing of his throat as she stepped in front of Sam.

Their eyes locked, and Sam felt himself drown in her gaze. Her eyes were the deepest shade of blue he’d ever seen, the color of a moonlit midnight sky. He stiffened as she dragged her small hand behind and down the side of his neck, letting her fingers trail down to his navy blue and silver striped tie. With a gentle, sultry tug, she leaned in close to him.

_Why don’t you do right like some other men do?_

_Like some other men do…_

In the swift seconds that passed, with just those last two lines of verse, Sam felt something stir inside him, something he hadn’t felt in far too long. Her gentle touch, her damn near celestial voice, and the way she looked at him sent a jolt of pure lust right between his legs.  She batted her long thick lashes and smirked, letting the silk of Sam’s tie slide through her fingers as she backed away from him, drawing out the last note of song as she meandered her way back to the band.

While the small crowd gave her a round of applause, Sam lightly clapped his hands together, unable to take his eyes off of her. She flashed him a sweet smile after handing her microphone back to the bassist and disappearing.

Sam took a deep breath, relishing the exotic bouquet scent of her that lingered, notes of woodsy vetiver, heady floral rose and sweet basil... He shook his head a few times, trying to rattle the salacious thoughts he was thinking out of his head. He had to concentrate on something else quickly – he’d felt himself getting hard the second she’d touched him. If Dean caught sight of that, he’d never hear the end of it. In a brief moment of wariness, he surreptitiously checked his pockets for a hex bag.

"I think she likes you, Sammy," Dean said.

Sam ran a hand through his hair. "She is really pretty…"

“Pretty?? You kiddin’ me, she’s a fuckin’ knockout! Wait...short brunette...shit, is that her?”

“Her who?”

 “Jenna?”

 “No way. That can't be her, she's too...I mean she's…”

 “Yeah, you're probably right,” Dean said, looking around the room again. “Hey,” he continued, giving his brother a nudge. “She’s over at the bar. Go talk to her.”

 “Dean, we’re on a case. There’s a good chance we’ll have a Shifter to kill later and the girl we  _should_  be talking to isn't here. We need to call Donna and – “

 “Fine, I’ll go call Donna. But for Chrissake, go buy that beautiful girl a drink.”

 Before Sam could protest, Dean pulled out his phone and walked outside.

 Sam looked over at the bar. There she was, sitting as gracefully as he’d ever seen anyone sit on a bar stool, talking to a younger man.  _Of course she’s talking to someone_ , Sam thought to himself. He felt a sense of relief at first but noticed it shift quickly into disappointment. If he was being honest with himself, a night with a woman like her would be a welcome release. Jesus, how long had it been? That was one thing he secretly admired about Dean – his way of being able to shamelessly satisfy himself sexually, just able to pick up a willing, beautiful girl and get lost in her for a night.

It wasn’t that Sam had a problem with a one-night stand or any moral objection to it – he’d had his fair share of them. But every brief fling since Jess, even Amelia...something was always missing. Aside from his apparent habit of hooking up with women who ended up being literal monsters, every brief encounter he’d shared with a woman had left him feeling just short of satiated.

And he knew damn well why. He never wanted to rush through sex. He liked to take his time, focusing all of his attention on someone, getting off by getting them off. He wondered if that made him a little old-fashioned, since anytime he tried to make it all about the girl it seemed like a battle for who could please who more. And then there was that other thing he enjoyed too much, that slightly unconventional urge to gently dominate, delicately punish and copiously praise whatever woman he was lucky enough to hold in his arms. Although he had taken it to extremes when he paid for that hooker when he was soulless, it was a part of him that never left, and a part of him that he selfishly wanted to give.

Sam’s introspection was interrupted when he noticed that the girl appeared to be arguing with the guy she had been talking to. He was trying to put his hands on her shoulders repeatedly while she continually brushed them away with a look of annoyance.

Without a second thought, Sam was taking long, purposeful strides toward the young idiot harassing the beautiful girl.

“Come on, babe, I’d give you a night you’d never forget,” Sam heard the guy coax.

“You’re right Jimmy, I'd never forget how awful it was. Now go the fuck away,” the girl snapped.

Jimmy grabbed her forearm. “You know you want to- “

“Excuse me,” Sam said, towering over the young man. “I believe the lady asked you to leave her alone.”

Jimmy leered up at him. "Fuck you, Sasquatch." 

Sam gave him a once-over, trying not to feel amused by Jimmy’s grungy appearance. What had to be a mullet that put Ash’s to shame was hidden under the guy’s ratty old baseball cap, greasy strands brushing against his dirt-dusted khaki overalls that contained his too large red and black flannel. His eyes were red, face alcohol-flushed beneath the barbs of a scraggly, subpar beard.

Boring down into the smug face in front of him, Sam reached into his suit coat, pulling out his FBI badge and flipping it open.

He set his jaw in firm, threatening stone. “She told you, and now I’m telling you – go the fuck away. Now.”

Jimmy put his hands up in a display of surrender. “Fine, the slut’s all yours.”

The utter disgust of guys like Jimmy made Sam's blood boil. He felt his hand clench into a fist, ready to punch the guy out until he felt a gentle grip on his wrist. 

“Don’t, agent,” the girl said. “He’s just drunk and pieces of shit like him aren’t worth it.”

Jimmy stumbled away, muttering incoherently as he made his way out of the bar.

Sam turned to the girl, who met him with a dazzling, winsome smile.

“Uh...are you okay?” he asked her.

“Of course, but you didn’t have to do that. Could’ve knocked him into the middle of next week if I needed to. But... thank you.”

“Sure thing.”

Sam watched her as she downed the rest of her cocktail.

 _Ah, what the hell,_  Sam said to himself.

“Can I buy you another drink?” he asked.

“Defending my honor and buying me a drink? You’re a rare breed, sir. How could I refuse?”

 Sam grinned, signaling the bartender.

“What are you drinking?”

“Brandy Old Fashioned, sweet” the girl replied, sliding a bright red cherry off a plastic toothpick with her teeth.

Sam made a confused face. “Brandy Old Fashioned? Aren’t those usually made with whiskey?”

“You’re in Wisconsin, sweetie. We like our brandy.”

The blonde behind the bar approached them.

“Two Brandy Old Fashioned sweets please” Sam requested.

“Good choice,” the girl said.

“Well, when in Rome,” Sam laughed.

“Oh, hey Maddie!” she called to the bartender. “Two shots of Jäger too!”

Sam motioned to the empty seat next to her. “May I?”

“Absolutely.”

Maddie set their drinks in front of them, light amber liquid tinted red from speared maraschino cherries, and two chilled shots of the nearly viscous, brown concoction that was Jägermeister.

The girl raised her shot glass. "To chivalry, may it never die," she said.

Sam chuckled and clinked his glass with hers, tossing it back in time with her, swallowing it with a shudder.

“Not a Jäger fan?” the girl laughed.

“Not especially. It always reminded me of cough syrup. By the way,” he said, extending his hand, “I’m Sam.”

She placed her small fingers around his in a delicate handshake. “Jenna.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “Jenna? Jenna Ford?”

“Do I know you from somewhere?” Jenna asked, looking confused as to how he knew her full name.

“I…we, my brother and I, we were supposed to meet you here.” 

“Wait, you’re Sam Winchester?”

“Yeah, and Dean…” he looked around the bar for his brother, “he just went out to call Sheriff Hanscum.”

Jenna rolled her eyes and slumped in her seat.

“I told her I had it under control,” she huffed.

“Well, she just thought that – “

“That what? That I couldn’t do the job on my own? Jesus Christ.” She took a large swallow of her drink. “Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I can’t hunt without a man to supervise me.”

“I’m sure it’s not that, it’s just -”

“I mean, I just took out two Djinn and a Ghoul last week for shit’s sake.”

He was pretty impressed - if she really was taking out Djinns and Ghouls on her own, maybe Donna underestimated her. But she was right about one thing - Jenna was quick to anger.

Sam didn’t know quite how to respond. He knew Donna was just being cautious, maybe a little nervous about Jenna being able to handle something like a Shifter on her own. He didn’t want to piss her off, but he had a sense that he shouldn’t say anything to the tune of  _‘it’s never a bad idea to have back up’_.

“How long have you been hunting?” he asked, hoping to quell Jenna’s irritation.

“Since I was sixteen, after dad was killed by a vamp. Hunted with mom until a Wendigo got her three years ago. Been successfully on my own ever since.”

Sam creased his brow in gentle sympathy. “I’m sorry about your parents. I know how hard that is.”

“Yeah,” said Jenna, a touch of sadness in her voice. “Kind of a pre-requisite for becoming a hunter, right?”

Just then, Dean’s voice rang out from behind them.

“All right Donna said Jenna checked in with her an hour ago and – oh, hey.”

Jenna turned in her seat. “You must be Dean.”

“And you must be Jenna. Nice pipes you got there, Jessica Rabbit.”

“Thanks, Judge,” Jenna bantered. “Well boys, sorry you wasted your time. Shifter’s not here.”

“How can you be sure?” Sam asked.

Jenna held up her arm, her bracelet gleaming in the dim bar light. “I checked. This is pure silver. No reaction from anyone in the place. It’s probably moved on to the next town or even Canada by now. And as much as I appreciate you coming up here, I don’t really need you.”

“Well, it’s our lucky day,” Dean said. “Just got a call from Jesse. Him and Cesar were on their way down from upper Michigan, said they took care of it.”

“Really?” Sam queried. “They’re sure it’s the same one? I mean, what if there’s more than one out there and -”

“Let’s just take it as a win alright? Now we get to spend a night off in an awesome gangster bar.”

 “And I am all for celebrating,” Jenna chimed in. She turned to Sam wearing a delicious grin. “Plus, I wouldn’t mind having a drinking buddy tonight.”

Sam’s mind was racing as fast as his heart. He’d love to do more than just spend the night drinking with her…he’d love to spend the whole night with her, running his hands over every inch of her smooth, pale skin, kissing her perfect lips and any other part of her body he could get his mouth on. He wanted to lavish all of his attention on her, whiling away the midnight hours telling and showing her exactly how amazing she was until the pale light of dawn, worshipping her like the princess she was. Jenna was so fucking breathtaking, with her diminutive frame and sassy attitude. Her acceptance of his desire to treat her with what most considered outdated courtesy made her all the more irresistible. Most women seemed uncomfortable with that, but when he found someone who appreciated it, it turned him on more than anything.

“Sounds good to me,” Sam smiled “I’d be happy to keep you company.”

 Sam glanced at Dean and raised his eyebrows, ever so slightly shifting his eyes in Jenna’s direction. Dean answered him with a brief nod and a cocky grin.

"You two have fun," Dean said, eyeing a smiling Maddie who was sitting at the end of the bar and looking his direction. "I think I may have found myself my own drinking buddy."

Sam checked his watch. Eleven-thirty. He immediately decided sleep and a morning run could wait. Whether he spent the night just drinking with Jenna or became fortunate enough to spend it between her legs, it didn’t matter - he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Ready for another round?” he asked her.

“Oh hell yes, Winchester. Let’s get it on!”

 _Maybe..._ , Sam thought to himself, chuckling at his own immature thoughts and smiling as he caught the new bartender’s attention.

Jenna was even more fascinating to talk to than she was to look at. Sam learned that before she had lost her parents she had been fortunate enough to travel - she’d been all over Europe as a teenager. She loved research and lore, listened to NPR and historical themed podcasts whenever she could. Her father had been a professor of Medieval History at UW-Madison, and her mother had held a Masters in Folklore and Mythology. Her deep blue eyes sparkled when Sam told her about the Men of Letters and all the archive rooms at the bunker, the vast assortment of books, files, and weapons he and Dean had inherited as Legacies. She appeared so fascinated that he didn’t think twice about insisting that she come check it out if she ever found herself in Kansas.

They traded stories of the fantastic but terrifying creatures they came across on hunts, beings that Jenna had heard about all her life but never dreamt actually existed. Sam couldn’t help but feel a little sad for her, that she had lived such a rich, normal existence before the realm of the supernatural had come crashing into her life and turning it upside down.

“So, do you like, live here?” Sam asked. 

“I try to stay close. I was born in this state, used to vacation up here with mom and dad every summer at a lake resort a couple of towns over.” She closed her eyes and chirped in soft, nostalgic laughter. “Dad taught me how to catch and gut fish, mom and I would shoot cans with a .22 in the woods or needlepoint on rainy days. There’s just...so many happy memories... Seems no matter where the monsters take me, I end up back here.”

Sam smiled at that. “I think that’s great, Jenna. Even if it’s not a roof and four walls, it’s home and -”

“Ugh, are you going to say ‘home is where your heart is’?”

“Not anymore,” Sam laughed.

“Good, ‘cause I like you - I don't wanna have to kick your ass.”

 Years ago, before he knew better, he would've thought this woman was an angel.

* * *

 

**_Her_ **

Jenna was beyond delighted that the gorgeous man she had locked eyes with and paid a little extra attention to during her song was sitting next to her. She had noticed him immediately, the way he stood out from the small flock of locals. He was the hottest man she’d seen in ages - tall and built, sharp cheekbones peppered with scruff, chin-length chestnut hair, all attached to what she could tell was a firm, hard body. She had struggled not to keep her eyes on him the entirety of her three-minute performance…but she’d had work to do.

When he had approached her at the bar, she thought he was just coming over to play knight-in-shining-armor, to get Jimmy off her back. But he’d obviously taken her hints, silently accepting her attentiveness as an invitation to seek her out.

“So here I am, drinking with Sam fucking Winchester,” Jenna bubbled, sipping another cocktail. “I’m surprised I didn’t recognize the two of you right off. Donna said she was sending you no matter how much I bitched about it and you and Dean are practically legendary with the hunter girls.”

Sam chuckled at that. “Do I even want to know?”

“Well, why wouldn’t us girls talk about guys like you? I mean… do you ever look at yourself? I know a few ladies who’ll be painfully jealous that I got to spend the night drinking with you. I'm one lucky girl.”

Jenna noticed the slight flush creeping up his cheeks. Fuck, he was perfection, with generous hands and long thick fingers that she could almost feel running along every inch of her body. She could only imagine what he looked like under his suit and prayed to whatever deity existed that she'd get to find out.

“I'm the lucky one, Jenna,” Sam asserted. “I mean, you’re just...amazing.”

She scoffed playfully at that. “Oh please.”

“Seriously! I never get to talk about lore for fun or NPR or anything like that with anyone. You’re clever and well-read and you're…” he paused, taking in a breath. “You’re one of the most breathtaking women I've ever seen.”

Jenna felt herself blush as she rubbed her thighs together, feeling the slight dampness that was beginning to gather between them. The way Sam treated her so admiringly, his attentiveness, how he complimented her...along with his charm and attractiveness, it was all working up a delicious pang in her core.

“I bet you’d think differently if I wasn’t wearing all of this,” she laughed, circling her made-up face in the air and gesturing to her dress and sandals. She never got to dress like this - she loved the comfort and function of her flannels and jeans, the stability of her boots and the extra moments of sleep she gained by not bothering with styling her hair or putting on makeup... but it was so nice to feel feminine and sexy for a change.

“I’m sure I would,” Sam hummed, leaning closer to her. Something had changed in his temperament, as though a wall he’d been struggling to hold up finally fell down. She felt her blood pumping in her ears when he tucked a section of her hair behind her ear, letting his finger trail down her jawline. He gently tipped her chin upwards. “I think you’d be even more gorgeous if you weren’t wearing anything.”

Her eyes fell shut as he kissed her softly, barely grazing her lips, pulling away much too quickly. That single, gentle meeting of their mouths turned the twinge of longing brewing inside of her into a full-blown ache. It was as though he had given her a taste of a drug, and all she wanted was to satiate her instant addiction.

Jenna’s eyes opened to be met by the kaleidoscopic hazel of his, dimples appearing on his cheeks as he smiled at her.

“You know,” Jenna purred, “I just thought of an even better way to make those other hunter girls jealous.” She placed her hand on Sam’s knee, grazing her fingers lightly against it.

“Have you, now?”

“Mmm hmm,” she giggled.

“And what would that be?”

“How about we finish these drinks, you walk me back to my motel room, and I’ll show you?”

Sam grinned, but then his expression turned earnest. “I have to ask, Jenna, are you…how are you feeling?”

“You mean am I drunk? I’ve got a good buzz, but I know damn well what I’m doing. And you?”

“I’m great. I just…if you’re drunk I can’t…”

Jenna let out a lively chuckle, her hand traveling further up Sam's thigh until she reached just between his legs. "Oh, Sam Winchester. You’re such a gentleman, too bad I’m not a lady.”

She let her fingertips wander, grazing against his stiff erection through the thin fabric of his charcoal gray dress pants.

Sam seemed to hesitate with a reply, as though he wasn’t sure if he should.

“So, Jenna,” he said, looking down into his near-empty cocktail glass, “If you’re not a lady, does that mean you’re a bad little girl?” He turned to look at her with an intense, libidinous stare that sent a shiver through her spine.

Could this man be any more flawless?

“Only when I can't be someone's good little girl,“ she whispered in his ear, palming Sam’s cock through his pants. “But I'm sure I could be one for you.”

Sam stifled a groan. “Are you sure? Because you’re being extremely naughty right now. Do I need to take you over my knee and spank you?”

Jenna whimpered as she felt herself getting wetter by the second.  The thought of Sam’s large hand smacking her ass, his thick fingers exploring her body, and, from what she could tell, his massive cock filling her throat and her pussy…she wanted to take anything and everything he wanted to give her.

"You might have to if you don't get me out of this place. Otherwise, I might want you to just fuck me in the bathroom." 

“Such a bad little girl, trying to jerk me off in public…” He wrapped his long fingers around her wrist, pulling her hand away from him. “Bad girls don't get what they want unless they've earned it, Jenna.”

She pursed her lips in a playful frown.

Sam turned her palm upwards in his, raised her hand to his mouth, and kissed each of her fingertips, his gaze piercing through her.

“No need to pout, my sweet girl,” he crooned. “I’m going to take extremely good care of you.” Leaning close, his lips met hers again, this time with more resolve, more intensity. She didn’t hesitate to open her mouth when he gently ran his tongue along her lower lip. Their tongues slid against one another’s in a gentle tangle, languid yet vivacious. He tasted so sweet, the flavor of brandy, oranges and cherries mixed with spearmint making her crave him even more.

Something in his kiss assured her that he was going to do just that. Sam was the perfect cocktail of what she wanted from a man - protective, gracious and flattering, with just the right amount of dominance exuding from him. Added to his incredible attractiveness, he was fucking perfection. Jenna needed some tenderness in her life, even if it was just for a night. She was so tired of always having to prove herself, having to fight just a little bit harder for everything. And while she fought proudly and gladly, sometimes she just wanted let her guard down, let herself be spoiled and worshipped and if Sam Winchester was offering to take care of her for a night, she wasn’t about to refuse.

“Well,” Sam muttered, taking both of her hands in his, “where are we going?”

Swallowing hard, she barely managed her reply. “Just down the street...Pinewood Inn.”

Sam snickered. “How convenient.”

“How’s that?”

“Dean and I have a room there too. But I’m really looking forward to spending the night in yours instead. Just hope we’re not neighbors,” he winked.

 ***

Once they stepped foot into Jenna’s room, Sam was on her, bending forward to catch her lips with his, cupping her ass in his large hands as he urged her to jump, lifting her as though she were nothing. She leaped into his arms, wrapping herself around him, the thrill of being handled by a man so magnificently massive in all the right ways rushing through her. The room spun as he turned her around, pushing her against the door, his mouth devouring hers in a ravenous kiss. His tongue was like velvet, smooth and warm against hers, twisting and exploring. Her pulsing center grazed against his hard length as they kissed, Sam pushing into her as her dress hitched further up her thighs and her hips rocked against him.   

She ran her hands through his long hair, tipping her head up when his mouth left hers and traveled tenderly down her neck, kissing, sucking, nipping. Jenna breathed in his scent – an intoxicating mix of spice and clary sage, clean cotton and a hint of gun oil. A moan escaped her when his teeth grazed against that soft spot on her neck, the spot that always drove her wild, right above her collarbone. She felt him smile against her skin, her moan quickly turning into a gasp as he delicately bit down on that sensitive spot, grinding a little harder against her core, sending a shudder of pleasure through her.

Jenna was rapt in the sensations coursing through her, how it felt to be held up in his solid arms, the way his gentle yet uncompromising lips felt against her heated skin, the way his stiff covered cock pressed against the growing spot of arousal pooling on the silk of her panties...

“God...Sam... fuck Daddy, yes…” she whimpered.

Sam stopped cold. He tilted his head back to face her, a smirk on his lips.  

“What was that you just said?”

Jenna felt her face burn, the flush of passion replaced with embarrassment searing her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, I…I don’t know where…don’t know why I- “she stammered.

She was dumbstruck by what had just come out of her mouth. It had been involuntary, flowing out of her as easily as a breath, something her body needed to say and her brain couldn’t hold back. She had buried that secret kink so deep she’d all but forgotten about it. The lascivious look that Sam gave her made her feel as though her bones had dissolved, reducing her to putty in his arms.

“Tell me what you called me, princess.” Sam husked.

She looked into his eyes, eddying blue green and amber, darkening with each breath he took.

“Yes, Daddy,” she murmured.

A low, quiet growl rumbled from Sam's chest as he pressed impossibly closer against her.

“Would you like to call me that all night? Sounds so beautiful coming from your mouth.”

Jenna beamed a bashful smile as she nodded her head ‘yes’.

“Jenna,” Sam warned, “if I ask you a question you need to answer with your words. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“There’s a good girl,” Sam crooned. “You're behaving so nicely…maybe you don’t need those spankings after all. In fact…”

He released her slowly, her back sliding against the door until she was teetering on her heels. He boxed her in, leaning down to mutter in her ear.

“Maybe,” he continued, sliding his finger under the shoulder strap of her dress, “I should just tear this off and get to work on making you come.”

She could only reply with a whimper, her hips bucking forward as Sam retracted his. As much as she wanted him to do just what he said, she wanted to draw this out, play this game as long as she could. She already missed being held up in his arms, the heat of his body nursing the flame that flickered in her belly to a full-blown blaze.

Giving him the best simper she could muster, she snaked her hands around his waist.

“But Daddy,” she whined, letting her fingertips dancing towards the button of Sam’s dress pants. “I was such a naughty girl at the bar, remember?” Her fingers found his button and zipper, sliding it down as she slid to her knees. She reached a hand in to pull out his hard thick cock, but Sam gently grabbed her wrist.

“Oh Jenna, now you’ve done it. Did I say you could touch my cock?”

“No…but,”

“‘No but’ nothing. Do you want my cock?

“Yes, I want to touch you.”

“What did I say earlier, hmm?”

“That bad girls don’t get what they want until they’ve earned it.”

“That’s right, princess. Stand up now,” Sam ordered. Jenna obeyed, rising to her feet, her entire body pulsing with anticipation.

Sam walked over to the single queen-sized bed and sat at the foot, eyes burning and intense as he looked at her, patting his leg.

“Come here.”

Jenna immediately went to him, seating herself on one of his strong, muscular thighs. She craned her neck as he buried his nose in the hair behind her ear, inhaling deeply.

“You smell like heaven, Jenna.” She felt his generous, calloused hand caress her thigh, sliding slowly upwards to the place she needed to be touched but stopping just short of it. “And you feel amazing...so soft...I can't wait to feel the rest of you. But I am going to have to punish you. How many spankings do you think you deserve?”

“Five,” she breathed.

“All right. Are you going to be my good girl and count them for me?”

"Yes, Daddy."

“Over my knee you go then.”

He caressed her tight bottom through the fabric of her dress and panties.

“What a beautiful ass you have, sweet girl.”

He delivered his first strike, eliciting a subdued but prurient gasp from Jenna's lips.

“One” she breathed, wriggling in Sam’s lap.

He let the second one fly a bit harder.

“Two” she moaned. She was past simply enjoying this now, the sting of the second blow sweeter than the first.

“Three!” She gasped, his strikes becoming harder.

Sam rubbed her cheeks. “You’re doing so well, Jenna. Are you ready for the last two?”

“Yes Daddy, please…” she mewled, writhing over his knee, trying in vain to catch any type of friction to ease the mounting ache of her throbbing clit.

Sam’s hand struck again, hot and hard. Jenna was panting now, the balance of pleasure and pain sending her into a fog of heat.

“How many was that, Jenna? I didn’t hear you…”

“Four,” she groaned.

“One more then.”

“Yes…yes...”

The last smack was the hardest yet, causing her to cry out.

“Oh my – fuck! Five!”

She was beside herself now, wanting nothing more than to strip naked and have his massive body covering hers.

“There’s my good girl. Have you learned your lesson now?”

“Yes Daddy,” she groaned.

“That’s what I want to hear. Now get up and give me a kiss.”

She rose, standing between his open legs, crashing her lips against his, tongues battling, teeth nipping, Sam swallowing every sigh and moan that escaped her throat. Frantic need took over her as she swung one leg over his thigh, steadying herself with her hands on his shoulders, seating herself as she began to move. She let her hips rock, dragging her aching core against him. Sam raised his leg a bit, allowing her to glide over him harder, wrapping his massive hands around her waist.

“You enjoying yourself, Jenna?”

She could only answer with a moan as her hips rolled faster, the friction sending exquisite waves of pleasure through her. She felt the ache in her lower belly begin to grow with each brush of her clothed sex against Sam’s leg.

She gasped when she felt his hand smack her ass.

“What did I say about using your words?”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” she whimpered as Sam rubbed her stinging cheek.

“I want you to come, Jenna. Think you can come for me just like this?”

“Yes…yes…”

Sam gripped her waist, pushing and pulling her in time with her own movements. “Christ, you look gorgeous like this, using me to get yourself off.  I can feel how soaked your pussy is already.... come for me and maybe I'll let you take off your panties.” He trailed one hand up to her breast, cupping and kneading it as she arched back, riding him at a steady speed. She whimpered as she felt her orgasm building, ready to erupt at any moment.

“That’s my sweet girl….that’s it…” he coaxed, his words vibrating through her like the tingle of an electric shock. Her breaths were chasing themselves as she felt herself approaching her breaking point.

“Oh my god…Daddy...” she sputtered.

"Come for me, princess."

Sam’s sultry demand sent her over the edge, crying out as her climax fluttered through her. The release was small, scarcely easing the ache between her legs, not nearly enough -she needed more. She needed his thick fingers buried in her, his mouth on her, his cock in her. She needed him.

He hummed with approval as her motions and breaths slowed, wrapping her arms around Sam’s neck, brushing her lips against his once again.

“Felt so good,” she sighed against his lips.

“I’m sure it did Jenna, but you know we’re just getting started. You’re going to come for me again, and again until I’m sure I’ve taken care of you. Would you like that?”

Her pulse beat against her veins with fury, every cell filled with desperate, lascivious want.

“I would love that, Daddy,” she murmured, running her tongue along his bottom lip and kissing him lightly. She let her fingers wander lower again, revisiting the waistline of his pants. “But I want to make you come first. Can I touch you now? Please?”

“Not yet, sweetling. You haven’t quite earned that yet.” Sam’s eyes raked over her still fully clothed body. “For one thing, you’re wearing too many clothes. Stand up for me.”

She did as she was told, stumbling a bit from the weakness in her legs and the height of her heels.

“Now, Jenna, you’re going to take your dress off for me. Just your dress. But I want you to make it entertaining for me. Do you know any other Peggy Lee songs?”

Jenna giggled, curious as to what he had in mind. “Yes.”

“Good girl. You stay right there.”

Sam got up from the bed, moving himself to a large armchair in the corner of the room. He propped one leg up on his opposite knee, wrapping his hand around his calf. With a devilish grin, he raised his free hand to his cheek, thumb resting under his chin and index finger brushing against his lower lip.  

“Go on then, Jenna. I’d like my own private show.”

A shy smile spread as fast as the heat in her cheeks. Singing in front of a crowd with a band was one thing - this was almost daunting, yet so fucking hot.

“So adorable when you blush, princess,” Sam muttered with a smirk. “Come on now, show me what you’ve got...unless you need me to smack that tight little ass again?”

Jenna bent her arms behind her back, searching for her zipper. Once she grasped it, she tugged it down slowly as she started swaying and singing.

_Now you've listened to my story_

_Here's the point that I have made_

_Chicks were born to give you fever_

_Be it Fahrenheit or Centigrade_

She let the sleeves fall off her shoulders and down her arms, one at a time, her bare breasts now on display.

_They give you fever_

_When you kiss them_

_Fever if you live and learn_

She pushed the remainder of the dress past her hips, the black fabric pooling at her feet.

_Fever! till you sizzle_

_What a lovely way to burn_

Sam appeared transfixed, the sly grin on his face almost cryptic. He appeared as though he was strategizing, plotting...Jenna stepped away from her discarded dress and slowly moved towards him.

_What a lovely way to burn_

_What a lovely way to burn_

_What a lovely way to burn_

By the time she trilled the last note, she was in front of him again, clad only in her pink silk and black lace-trimmed panties and her strappy silver heels. Sam placed his raised foot on the floor.

His gaze penetrated her, edacious and severe as he unbuttoned his pants.

“On your knees, Jenna.”

She dropped in an instant, running her hands over each of his knees, up and down his thighs, her mouth practically watering as he pulled out his magnificent cock. Never averting his eyes from hers, he pumped his rock hard length slowly in his hand.

“Daddy…” Jenna pleaded, “can I touch you now?”

“Only with that pretty mouth, princess.”

A rapacious moan escaped her as she ran her tongue up the length of his cock, shifting into a whimper as she swirled her tongue around the head, lapping at the pearl of pre-cum that seeped from him. She had to taste him, needed to feel him fill her mouth. She hollowed her cheeks and took as much of him as she could, savoring the way her lips stretched around him and the weight of his cock on her tongue. She twirled her tongue around his shaft as she slid him in and out of her mouth, every groan and grunt she drew from him making her insane with desire. She braced herself to take him deep, sinking down until she felt him hit the back of her throat.

“Shit!” Sam growled. “My fucking god, you’re so good at that...taking me so deep… Jenna your mouth feels so fucking amazing…”

She hummed around him, his praises urging her to keep on taking him, keep swirling her tongue around his huge, beautiful cock. But Jenna released him gently and gazed up at him. His eyes were half-lidded, mouth gaping, chest rising and falling with short, shallow breaths.

“I can do better if I used my hands too…” she purred, tugging at the waistline of his pants.

“Is that so?” Sam lifted himself enough to push his pants and underwear down to his knees. “Go ahead then...show me how good you can be with my cock.”

With a beguiling grin, she wrapped two of her small fingers and thumb around the base of his shaft and stroked him lightly. Guiding his length back to her mouth, she wrapped her lips around the head and sucked gently, letting her tongue caress the small indent near the tip.

“Love sucking your big cock, Daddy,” she murmured between licks. She took all that could into her, stroking what wouldn't fit with her fingers. Her free hand slid up the inside of his thigh until she reached the sack of flesh between his legs. A long, heavy moan reverberated from Sam as she caressed him there, ceaselessly working him with her fingers and tongue.

She felt Sam’s fingers lace through her hair. “Sweetheart,” he panted, “if you don’t stop...shit...gonna make me come…”

Jenna groaned, lips still stretched around him, and peered up at him with hopeful expectancy.

“Is that what you want, princess? Want me to come in that pretty mouth of yours?”

She affirmed with a muffled moan and a slight nod. She wanted to make him explode, be filled with the taste of him, feel his come trickle down her throat.

Sam’s head flew back against the chair, a string of curses, praises and her name weaving from his lips.

She felt him stiffen, both his hands grasping her head as she drove him steadfastly towards his release.

“That’s my good girl...that’s my good little girl...fuck!”

She kept her actions constant as she felt him spill into her, keening as the hot salt and earth taste of him coated her throat. She decelerated her movements as he came down, letting his cock twitch in her mouth before releasing him and swallowing every drop of come he'd fed her. Sam looked down at her with a more than satisfied grin and a delirious chuckle. 

“Was that okay, Daddy?” Jenna cooed coyly.

Sam ran a hand over his brow, combing back the hair that stuck against the tiny beads of sweat on his forehead. “That was fantastic. Absolutely fantastic. But now, I get to return the favor.” Jerking his pants back over his hips, Sam nodded toward the bed. “Spread that gorgeous body out on the bed for me.”

Rising from her knees, she made her way to the bed, sprawling out as she waited for Sam to join her. He stood at the foot of the bed, stripping out of his suit coat, freeing himself of his tie, that look of lecherous calculation back on his face. Jenna began to run her hands along her breasts as she watched him undress. She bit her lip when he reached for the buttons on his shirt, her hand trailing toward the apex of her thighs.

Sam tsked as he undid button after button. “No touching yourself, sweetling. That’s my job.” He tossed his dress shirt to the floor.

Jenna choked back a yelp when he removed his t-shirt, revealing his perfectly sculpted body. Her palms itched to run along the hard, rounded muscles of his chest, the curves of his biceps, the ripple of his abs. When he finally dropped his pants and boxer briefs, her breath was cut short by an involuntary, audible gasp. Her eyes were drawn instantly to the sharp v-line cut of his waist, the urge to run her teeth and tongue along it nearly unbearable. She was quickly distracted by his cock jutting against his tight stomach, just as ready and firm as it was when she had wrapped her lips around it.

Sam gently caressed her ankles, wrapping his sizable hands around them. “Need you to slide down a little, princess…” he murmured, delicately tugging her forward as she pushed herself down the bed. Her legs dangled off the mattress, her ass right on the edge.

Jenna’s back bowed in ecstasy when he circled the pad of his thumb against the ever-growing wet spot on her panties.

“Love how wet you are for me,” he beamed, continuing to move his thumb up and down the damp silk between her legs. “I’m going to make sure you get completely soaked.”

“Daddy....please…” she begged, writhing against his touch.

“You want me to touch you?” Sam teased, hooking his fingers on the waistline of her underwear.

She raised her hips with a moan, urging him to take the damn things off her.

Sam let out a low chuckle. "Eager little thing, aren't you?" He finally slid the silk off her legs, pulling them down over her shoes. "I think it's time these came off too." He gingerly removed each sandal from her feet, kissing the top of each foot as he freed her from them. 

He slid his hands up her calves, torturously slow, up to her thighs.

“Open up for me, baby girl. Let me see your pretty pussy.”

Jenna complied, spreading her legs wide open as Sam reverently sank to his knees.

“Perfect,” he uttered, trailing kisses up the inside of her thighs, the stubble on his cheeks scraping splendidly against her tender, heated skin. “Absolutely. Fucking. Perfect.”

Jenna’s head was reeling the second he flicked his warm tongue against her drenched center. Her back arched instinctively as she let out a pathetic cry, writhing her hips under his mouth in a plea for more. Sam gently pinned her down with his forearm, compelling her to remain still while he lapped at her with excruciating indolence, alternating long, heavy licks from her entrance to her clit with just a flit of his tongue against her folds. After what seemed like an eternity of exquisite torture, he thrust his tongue deep inside of her, the vibration of his satisfied moans surging raw and red-hot through her as he devoured her.

She keened when he replaced his tongue with his finger, relieved to feel even more of him inside her, her walls clenching as they ached for more to grasp. He pumped slowly in and out, quickly sliding in a second finger.

“Jesus Christ, you're so fucking tight Jenna...can't wait to get my cock inside this gorgeous little pussy…”

She wanted to beg him to do just that, to give her everything he had, to fuck her senseless. But words escaped her. She was reduced to only moans and pants, her throat arid from her rapid, heaving breaths.  Just two of his fingers filled her lusciously -so long and dense, reaching places in her that hadn’t been touched before. She nearly jolted off the bed when Sam brushed against a spot deep inside her, flooding her with a bliss she could almost taste, gasping loudly.

Sam peered up at her, a seductive, satisfied grin spread across his face.

“There it is…” he hummed, relentlessly dragging his fingers against the place he discovered. “There's my sweet girl's sweet spot.”

He dipped his head between her legs once again, circling her swollen clit with the tip of his tongue and sucking lightly as he continued to stroke her g-spot.

She felt the familiar weight in her abdomen become heavier, every flick of his tongue and nudge of his fingers driving her closer and closer to the edge. She began to tremble, thrusting forward to fuck his fingers harder, her walls tightening. Just as she felt the heat in her begin to spread, Sam’s mouth detached from her clit, drawing his fingers down but not completely out.

She propped herself up on her elbows. “Mmm... was so close…” Jenna whined.

“I know you were, princess,” Sam chuckled. “But you need to get used to it. I’ll be doing it again and again until I’m sure you’re nice and ready.”

“Daddy, please...I’m ready... make me come.”

"I will Jenna...just be patient. Can you do that for me?"

She groaned as he slid his fingers into her again.

“Answer me, sweetling. Can you be a good girl and be patient? I promise it’ll be worth it…”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Okay, then. Lay back and let me take care of you.”

Sam did as he promised, working her pussy with his tongue and fingers, bringing her to the edge and back down. She had lost count of how many times he’d denied her, leaving her body quavering and sending her mind into a cloud to sheer madness. Her core was burning, her arousal flooding between her legs. The mix of pleasure and need and frustration consumed her, nearly bringing a tear to her eye.

“Love how your pussy’s still dripping for me,” Sam muttered, his voice dark and thick as molasses. “I’m going to make you come now.”

He slowly slid in a third finger, causing Jenna to hiss at the sweet sting. Weak from the teasing and desperation, she simply lay there, the girth of Sam’s fingers stretching her open as he tapped against her sweet spot. Jenna felt the kindling of her orgasm build quickly, thanks to Sam’s repeated refusals to allow her to let go. The pressure was building now, as hard and steady as his probing fingers. Sam licked the thumb and index finger of his free hand, gently rolling her clit between them.

“Daddy…” she whispered, the knot in her abdomen taut and stressed and ready to snap.

“Let go, Jenna...be my sweet princess and come for me…”

White spots danced beneath her eyelids as her climax wracked her entire body. She came harder than she ever had in her life, a primal wail flowing from her throat, her come pouring out of her, soaking her thighs, the sheets beneath her and Sam’s unrelenting fingers. He kept working her, drawing out her orgasm as she thrashed on the bed, gripping the bedsheets for dear life.

“Holy fuck! Oh my fucking god, Daddy, yes!”

Aside from that single, sensical sentence, Jenna didn’t recognize the sounds coming from her, a cacophony of groans, baying, and laughter drowning out Sam's mumbled curses and praises. It felt as though she was floating, the euphoria surging through every cell in her body. She surrendered to it, closing her eyes and allowing herself to simply lie back and drown in the wake of raw pleasure that pulsed through every cell in her body.

Jenna drifted back to herself slowly, as slowly as Sam was gently ceasing his ministrations. She opened her eyes to find him hovering over her, his long hair framing his face, a tender smile on his lips.

“I told you it would be worth it,” he hummed.

“I’ve never...no one’s ever made me do that before,” she whispered. “Thought it was a myth.”

Sam chuckled lowly. “You should know by now Jenna, most myths are truths. And speaking of things you should know…” He brought his slick-covered fingers to her lips. “You need to know how delicious you taste.”

Jenna parted her lips, sucking and licking the flavor herself off of him, moaning as she began to stir, ready to push herself up and against him. But before she could, Sam picked her up from the bed bridal style, just to carry her the short distance from the foot of the bed to the side. He lay her down gently, lowering himself to rest on one elbow next to her as he began kneading her breasts.

“I’m sorry princess,” Sam said, taking a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “I was so distracted by your pretty pussy I never paid any attention to your beautiful tits.” He shifted to take one in his mouth, hovering over her, his tongue flitting over the hardened bud of her nipple, his large hand cupping and stroking the other. Jenna’s hips began to rock as she let the sensation of Sam’s warm mouth on her breasts wash over her. She moaned as he switched to her other breast, repeating his actions, embers of another orgasm she didn’t think she could possibly have after the last one beginning to glow red hot.

“Fuck me,” she whispered, growing desperate and needy once again. “Daddy, fuck me, please...”

She prepared herself for more teasing, more waiting, more of Sam denying her. Instead she was reeling as he flipped her over, positioning her on top of him. Forgetting her initial plea, she took the chance to kiss him ardently, exploring every part of his mouth with her tongue while she ran her hands over any inch of his body that she could. Sam flexed and writhed beneath her as she moved her mouth to his jawline, his stubble scraping her lips. She traveled further down, placing hot, open-mouthed kisses across his chest, down his sternum, down to the cut of his waist. Jenna licked and nipped him there, Sam’s hips undulating, his cock brushing against her cheek. She couldn’t help but take it in her mouth again, delighting in the way he seemed to be giving in to her.

“Jenna…” he groaned, “Need to be inside you…”

She released him from her mouth, raising herself to her knees. Sam sat up and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. He lined himself up with her entrance as she pushed down slowly, inch by inch as she adjusted to his size. Once he was fully in her he straightened his arms and began thrusting into her at a leisurely pace. She began to meet his movements, their bodies rocking in rhythm. He filled her completely; Jenna could feel every thick, pulsing vein of his cock against her walls, sparking the flames of another orgasm to take root in her belly.

“Fucking Christ, your pussy feels amazing,” Sam growled. “So hot and tight around my cock, my god…

Jenna was only able to breathe out unintelligible sounds as they fucked, each thrust sending her on a straight path to the edge.

“Touch yourself, sweetling…want you to play with yourself while I’m fucking you…”

She let her fingers find her clit as Sam took a breast into his mouth, this time biting her nipple gently. She moaned wantonly as all the sensations swirled inside of her - the feel his mouth on her breast, her own touch on her clit, the stretch of Sam’s cock as he fucked her.

“Gonna come for me again, my sweet girl?” he urged. “Gonna come all over my cock?”

That was all it took to send her flying, her walls gripping Sam like a vice as she came, a sheen of sweat covering her body as the fire inside her burned white hot.

“Good girl, such a good girl…” Sam grunted, his voice strained. She could tell he was getting close to own his own release.

She paused, letting his slick, hard cock slip from her as she turned herself around. Perched high on her knees, Sam entered her from behind as she leaned against his chest.

Her last climax woke something inside her, something that was carnal and wild and all she wanted at that moment was to feel Sam come.

“Fuck me, Daddy,” she rasped through gritted teeth, “fuck me hard and come all over me, make your princess a dirty little girl with your come…”

Sam obliged, holding her close against him with one arm across her chest, slamming into her faster, so hard it was pleasurably painful.

In a graceful fluid motion, he pulled out of her as she twisted around and fell to her back beneath him, watching as he gave himself the last few pumps on his cock to spill his come on her with a primal groan and a shout of her name. Jenna cried out as she felt the hot spurts covering her stomach and her breasts, only to be muffled by Sam’s lips on hers. His body covered hers, the weight of him on top of her comforting and thrilling at the same time. She ran her fingers through the damp locks of his hair, stroking his head as he caught his breath, the thrum of his heart beating against her chest.

Sam eventually rolled onto his back, gathering Jenna in his arms. She draped an arm across his chest, nuzzling her nose into the crook of his neck.

“Sam...that was fucking amazing,” she murmured against his skin.

“That’s an understatement."

“Seriously,” she said propping herself up on one elbow, drawing lazy random patterns on his chest with her free hand. “No one’s ever made me come the way you did. And I haven’t been able to let go like that in...ever.”

“Me neither, Jenna. Not for a very long time. Thank you.”

“You’re actually thanking me for sex?”

Sam chuckled. “More than that, I -” he ran a hand through his hair, almost appearing self-conscious. “I really liked that you let me take care of you and...that we could say the things we said and do the things we did. That kind of sexual chemistry is pretty rare.”

Jenna gave him a long, sweet kiss. “Yeah, you’re right. Most people think it’s weird.”

“Well I‘m kinda used to being a weirdo.”

“Let’s see now,” Jenna said, sitting upright. “I’ve gotten to drink with Sam fucking Winchester, and I’ve gotten to have mind-blowing sex with Sam fucking Winchester...How do you feel about getting to take a shower with Jenna fucking Ford?”

“Pretty fucking ecstatic,” Sam winked.

 ***

As the hot water cascaded over them, Jenna thought for a moment that she would have traded all the sex just for this shower. Sam was as sweet and gentle as ever, letting her get the majority of the water as he swept a washcloth over every inch of her skin, leaving a soft kiss here and there in the wake of his touch. She couldn’t keep her hands off him, letting her fingers dance around his water-beaded biceps, chest, and stomach. He even washed her hair, massaging her scalp and quickly wiping away any bubbles that threatened to get in her eyes. When he was done she gazed up at him affectionately.

“I’d offer to give you the salon treatment but I think my arms are too short,” she giggled.

“Go dry off,” Sam smiled. “I’ll be quick. Warm up the bed for us.” He leaned down and sent her off with a quick kiss.

Jenna stepped out of the steaming shower, quickly running a towel over her body. She rubbed the towel against her hair and quickly raked her brush through it, anxious to get back into bed and under the covers. Leaving herself naked, she padded her way to the bed and turned down the covers.

Settling in, she stretched and wriggled, sighing in contentment at the slight sting between her legs, the slackness of her muscles, weightless from the ebb and flow of spectacular sensations that left her feeling pleasantly spent. But as she lay there replaying the last hours of the evening in her mind, a veil of melancholy shadowed her elation.

They were perfect for each other.

This was almost cruelly unfair.

Jenna knew there would be nothing to come of this night, other than the memory of it. She knew everything that Sam had been through, had heard the stories and of the experiences he’d endured, and knew that he was still fighting hard. Just like she was. There wasn’t a place for anything more than this with their lives, the threats and chaos of being hunters superseding any chance of building solid relationships. A song crept into her mind, one that her mother had loved and played over and over; a bittersweet story about misplaced soulmates... 

_And I’m so sad_

_Like a good book_  
_I can’t put this day back_  
_A sorta fairytale with you_  
_A sorta fairytale with you_  
  
_And I was ridin’ by_  
_Ridin’ along side_  
_For a while till you lost me_  
_And I was ridin’ by_

 _Ridin’ along till you lost me_  
_till you lost me in the rear view_  
_you lost me, I said_  
  
_Way up North I took my day_  
_All in all was a pretty nice day and I_

_Put the hood right back where_  
_You could taste heaven perfectly_  
_Feel out the summer breeze_  
_Didn’t know when we’d be back and, I_

_I don’t, didn’t think_  
_We’d end up like, like this_

Maybe they could stay in contact, be friends. Maybe she would somehow find her way to Kansas one day to get her hands on those books and all over Sam Winchester’s body again. Maybe she’d never see him again, his touch and kisses simply haunting her until someone or something burned them away. Or maybe she was thinking too much and should just enjoy what was left of this night. 

Sam finally emerged from the bathroom with a towel around his waist. Dropping it, he crawled in next to her, urging her to turn on her side. Jenna pressed her back against his chest, her eyes heavy as he all but cocooned himself around her. The pulse of his heart beating against her, his warm breath against her ear, and the sound of the predawn birds chirping began to lull her into a calm, blissful sleep. Encompassed in the body of the extraordinary man who made her feel things she’d never felt before, she allowed herself to surrender to the pleasant exhaustion that consumed her. 

* * *

 

**_Him_ **

Sam feigned sleep as he heard Jenna attempting to quietly pack up her things. He always hated this part, the awkward, morning- after “hey, that was fun, see you around maybe never” and empty goodbyes. He hated it even more now, the thought of seeing her beautiful face for most likely the last time making his gut clench. He struggled to keep himself still as he felt her sweep his hair off his cheek and place a soft kiss there.

For reasons he couldn't understand, he felt his heart sink just a little as he heard the door open and click closed. He reminded himself it was better this way, just letting her go. No pretending that anything more could ever grow between them or not end in bloodshed and heartache - their lives left no room for that. Feeling slightly pathetic, he turned to the empty spot where Jenna had slept, burying his face in the pillow that still smelled like her. Dammit, he really liked her. One week together and he was certain he'd fall for her, dreaming of the happy, apple-pie life they’d never have as hunters. He pushed the thoughts away, letting them slip to the place where he kept things he wanted to forget. He convinced himself that for now, it was a comfort simply to know that women like Jenna even existed, content to replay the memories of their night together over and over on his happiest days or loneliest nights. He eventually drifted back into sleep, smiling at the echo of her voice that rang in his ears.

***

Sam stumbled out of bed when he heard his phone ring. Searching for his suit coat through blurry eyes, he fumbled around the room until he found it, taking his phone out of the inside pocket. It was Dean.

“Yeah,” Sam answered.

“Mornin’  _Daddy_.”

Shit. Had they really been that loud? It had turned out they were in fact neighbors - but had been too distracted to care. Sam could just  _see_ the smart-ass grin covering his brother’s face.

“Come get your gear, we’re hittin’ the road in ten,” Dean bossed, hanging up before Sam could get a word in.

He picked up the rest of his discarded clothes and got dressed, preparing himself for a thirty-second walk of shame and thirty hours of mocking from his brother.  Despite the amount of harassment that faced him, he found himself smiling as he buttoned up his shirt. His night with Jenna was entirely worth any shit Dean tried to sling his way.

Grabbing his tie off the small table next to the armchair, he saw the note she’d left him.

_Sam -_

_Got another case. You should call and see if I need back up._

_Or if you need to show me what a bad girl I was for running out on you._

_Xo, Jenna 202-555-0186_

With a smile so wide it nearly hurt his face, he carefully folded the note and tucked it safely in his wallet.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Songs:  
> "Say It Over and Over Again" - John Coltrane  
> "Why Don't You Do Right" - Peggy Lee  
> "Fever" - Peggy Lee  
> "A Sorta Fairytale" - Tori Amos
> 
> Special thanks to my husband, for being my beta and dealing with my SPN addiction.
> 
> Visit me on [Tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/rockhoochie)


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